


Ten Years Later

by FreelanceDreamer



Category: Bleach
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Gen, Spoilers for 685, Takes place after chapter 685, Very mild ShunNao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-11 21:53:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7908937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreelanceDreamer/pseuds/FreelanceDreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One-shot AU centering around how life has changed for Jushiro's widow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ten Years Later

**Author's Note:**

> So I firmly live in a world where Jushiro Ukitake is not dead. His death was honourable until it ended up being absolutely meaningless within the plot line. I 100% believe that Jushiro would give his life for Soul Society without a second thought, and I recognize that some lives that are sacrificed in good faith don’t always end up meaning something; but to have him die essentially so Rukia could become captain? BYE  
> This story takes place within the universe of an established relationship between Ukitake and an OFC. Enjoy!

The grave was fairly modest, but appropriate given that whom it belonged to. As Kagomei Ukitake sat quietly on the bench perpendicular to the grave she almost wished that Jūshirō had been a more flamboyant or prideful man. The grave didn’t seem to do any justice for the man who’d so willingly sacrificed his life in hopes of a better future.

On the bench across from her, Shunsui Kyōraku reclined lazily and brought his small dish of sake to his lips for a drink. Years ago it had angered and upset Kagomei when Shunsui drank at Jūshirō’s grave, but as time had gone by and Kagomei’s grief had stopped making simply being awake so painful, she’d come to realize that it wasn’t an act of disrespect. With Jūshirō gone, Shunsui had not only lost his oldest and closest friend, but also his most trusted drinking partner. Everyone was entitled to their own method of grief; Kagomei wasn’t going to begrudge Shunsui of his own.

“It’s finally finished,” Shunsui said quietly. “All of the cleaning and reconstruction – children born now will never see a single sign of the war that was fought here.”

“Or of those who lost their lives in that war,” Kagomei answered bitterly. She internally chastised herself for snapping at the man; of course it was a good thing that the Seireitei was rebuilt. Although they’d had peace for the past ten years, the rubble and destruction had been a visible reminder of the suffering and death that had taken place.

Shunsui used a single knuckle to push the brim of his hat up, his expression relaxed but his gaze sharp. “Yare yare, that’s a little uncalled for don’t you think? This is what he wanted, after all.”

Kagomei sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows and her knees and putting her head in her hands. She rubbed her temples for a few minutes to calm herself down and regain her composure before sitting back upright.

“I know, I know. Of course I know – better than most people as well. That doesn’t always make it better though.”

“No I suppose it doesn’t,” Shunsui conceded. 

“Do you think he knew?” Kagomei asked tentatively. 

Shunsui shook his head. “No,” he said and his voice was firm. “Which was probably for the best – for him I mean. I doubt Ukitake could have stomached leaving you alone if he had known.”

“But he could stomach leaving just me alone.”

“We’re Shinigami,” Shunsui chided gently. “Death in war is an occupational hazard and dying for Soul Society while we protect it is in the job description if it’s needed. He knew that you knew that and that you would come to terms with that eventually.”

“I did come to terms with it,” Kagomei said softly. “I came to terms with it almost immediately even though it was little comfort. It was only after I found out that I was pregnant that I really became angry with him.”

Shunsui nodded but remained silent, his expression hooded. Kagomei could imagine what he was thinking about. She’d been elsewhere when Jūshirō had died and hadn’t found out until much later. The entire war had left everyone feeling helpless and vulnerable, and she’d rationalized that that was why she’d suddenly felt so despondent the day he died; later she’d realized that her body had been responding to the loss of Jūshirō’s spiritual pressure before her mind could put the pieces together.

The following weeks passed as a blur. Main reconstruction started about a week after the war had ended and the minor injured individuals had been released from the Fourth division. Shunsui had been kind enough to open up his home to her, knowing that she’d never be able to return alone to the house that she’d lived in with Jūshirō so soon after his death. It had been a kind gesture, although he himself had been in the Fourth division for quite some time for his own injuries.

The funeral had been a simple one – separate from the others because of his rank as captain. Kagomei swore that the entire Gotei 13 had attended, and their sympathetic looks had almost been her undoing. She’d declined to say anything, there was nothing she wanted to share in front of everyone. Her marriage to Jūshirō had always been between the two of them, and she wanted to keep it that way.

It had been that evening when she’d collapsed.

She’d felt off the entire day. The nausea and dizziness had been horrible, but she’d figured that it was because of the funeral. Besides, she hadn’t exactly been feeling well beforehand, the sense of dissociation and numbness had followed her since the day Jūshirō had died. Feeling unwell had become the default.

She’d been sitting on the porch with Shunsui and Nanao enjoying the night air when she’d decided to call it a night. Standing had brought upon overwhelming dizziness and she’d put out a hand to steady herself. The last thing she remembered was the sound of her name being shouted by Nanao and Shunsui.

Waking up in the Fourth division had been a slow process. Her body seemed torn between wanting to continue to rest and wanting to wake up. Eventually the fogginess had lifted, and for a few minutes she’d been confused about where she was. The IV in her arm and the rhythmic peeping of the heart monitor had cleared any confusion that lingered. After a quick examination to make sure she was doing well, Isane Kotetsu had entered. Never one particularly skilled at hiding her emotions, Isane had looked so distraught and awkward that for a moment Kagomei had panicked and thought that someone else had died.

Nothing could have prepared her for the news that she was pregnant. The world stopped turning and the room faded away. Her ears were ringing but at the same time she could hear her blood pounding in them. Pregnant? How could she raise Jūshirō’s child without him? He’d wanted children – he’d brought it up so many times. There just were never enough periods of peace to start a family.

In a way, her pregnancy had bound the Gotei 13 back together. Kagomei had barely had enough time to get her head around the news when people had started to drop in with small gifts and well-wishes. The support had been overwhelming – and undoubtedly one of the reasons that everything had turned out so well.

“Are you still mad at him?” Shunsui asked, drawing Kagomei out of her reminiscing.

She shrugged, “Not really,” she said. “It’s just hard to watch her grow without him, because I know that he would have been a fantastic father and I still can’t really understand that she’ll never know how kind, and strong, and loving, and funny he was.”

“I don’t know about that,” Shunsui said, reclining once again against the bench. “She tells anyone who will listen about the stories that you tell her. She might not understand everything that happened, but she understands how much he would have loved her and she’s incredibly proud of him.”

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted,” Kagomei said and paused for a moment before continuing. “You know, I never thanked you for all the help you’ve given me these past 10 years. You and Ise-san both.”

Shunsui let out a loud sigh and stood, gathering up his supplies. “Good grief, if you’re going to start with all that sentimentality then I’m going to go. Nanao-chan assures me that there’s plenty of paper work on my desk to keep me busy.”

Kagomei quirked an eyebrow, “You’re going to go do paperwork?”

He grinned, “Possibly. It depends on whether or not I can negotiate a reward out of my hard-working Nanao-chan.”

“You’re incorrigible!” Kagomei laughed, as they descended the stairs from the grave.

Shunsui’s answering wink was all that was needed in reply.

“Ojisan!”

A soft smile spread across Kagomei’s lips as she turned to see her daughter running towards them, an exasperated but amused Nanao following slowly behind.

At nine years old, Etsuko Ukitake was all legs and had quite the coltish grace about her. Her long black hair streamed out behind her - a testament to the colour Ukitake’s hair had been before he’d become ill as a child – and in stark contract to her fair skin. Although whether the pale skin tone had come from her mother or father, Kagomei would never be sure.

Etsuko also had her father’s eyes. Bright green, inquisitive eyes that lit up with joy in times of excitement, or – as was becoming more frequent – with mischief in times of play.  
Kagomei laughed as Etsuko barely bothered to slow down at all before bounding straight into Shunsui’s open arms. Even though Shunsui loved to complain about how much of an old man he’d become, Kagomei knew that he was only pretending as he groaned and complained about how Etsuko had become too strong for him, causing Etsuko to giggle and protest.

Etsuko _adored_ Shunsui; she had done since she was an infant. He made her laugh and was always happy to share stories of the father she’d never got the chance to meet. His role as the Captain Commander often meant that he didn’t get to be around as often as Etsuko wanted, which made the time they got to spend together so much more meaningful. Over the years Etsuko had also picked up Shunsui’s subtle yet cunning sense of humour; much to Kagomei’s unending frustration and amusement.

Kagomei was drawn out of her musings when her daughter collided with her legs, only years of experience allowing Kagomei to keep her balance. Grinning down at Etsuko’s innocent expression, Kagomei bent down to smother the girl’s face in kisses, resulting in a surprised squeak and half-hearted protests separated by giggles.

“Okaasan!” Etsuko whined, valiantly trying to hide the blush on her cheeks.

“Hmm?” Kagomei asked, still grinning at her daughter’s accusatory glare.

Etsuko sighed and shook her head, causing Shunsui to roar with laughter. Even Nanao covered her mouth with her hand to stop her laughter. 

“Captain, we need to get going,” Nanao reminded gently.

Shunsui’s head dipped slightly in resignation, “When you’re right, you’re right Nanao-chan.”

Etsuko’s head whipped around, “Ojisan you’re leaving?!”

Shunsui smiled and reached out to brush a lock of hair away from Etsuko’s face. “Apparently so,” he answered. “Not much gets done around here if I’m not there to oversee it all.”

Kagomei laughed at the pure annoyance and disbelief on Nanao’s face. Kagomei didn’t doubt that Shunsui would pay for that comment later on.

Etsuko frowned, “But you’re still coming for dinner right? And Nanao-san?”

Shunsui glanced quickly at Nanao, who nodded her head, before looking back at Etsuko. “Of course we are! We just need to get some work done first.”

Etsuko whooped with joy and quickly hugged Shunsui and Nanao before saying something about picking flowers and running off.

“Don’t go past the house!” Kagomei called over her shoulder. “That girl is going to be the death of me.”

Shunsui chuckled, “She’s just having some fun. She’s a good girl.”

Kagomei nodded, “I know.”

Wordlessly, the three of them fell into step as they walked towards Ugendō. Although the estate belonged to the Ukitake family, after Jūshirō’s death when Kagomei discovered that she was pregnant, Jūshirō’s siblings had insisted she live there. It worked out nicely for both parties; Kagomei had a home to raise her daughter in that was full of family  
history, and the Ukitakes could stop in and visit whenever they liked.

“Do you remember that ‘thank you’ you were talking about earlier that you never thought you’d given us?” Asked Shunsui, startling Kagomei.

“Yes?” Kagomei asked, confused.

Shunsui pointed at the retreating figure of Etsuko. “That’s all the thanks I’ll ever need – that’s we’ll ever need,” Shunsui added while Nanao nodded beside him.  
Kagomei smiled and looked down, feeling a light blush spread on her cheeks. A finger tilted her chin up, and she found herself staring into the depthless grey of Shunsui’s remaining eye.

“He would have been proud of her, Kagomei. To raise a child with you would have been his greatest joy.”

For a moment, tears threatened her eyes and she was forced to look away. Her heart already knew these truths, but hearing them said aloud – and by Jūshirō’s best friend was almost too much. It was all she’d ever wanted, and she’d strived to teach Etsuko to be kind and honest, and instill in her all the values that Jūshirō had held in such high esteem. 

When she opened her mouth to says something, Shunsui silenced her with a wave of his hand.

“Just keep doing what you’re doing and we’ll be here to keep supporting you when you need it.”

Kagomei smiled and wordlessly squeezed Shunsui’s arm as they continued their walking. As they reached Ugendō, Kagomei could see evidence of Etsuko’s flower picking; flower chains lay littered on the railing near the koi pond, and a pair of muddy sandals were lined up outside the screen door.

Saying a quick good-bye, Kagomei climbed the stairs and opened the screen door. Just before steeping inside she whistled to get the attention of Shunsui and Nanao who had continued walking.

“You know,” she called out. “You two would make good parents too. You should think about having a kid of your own!”

Kagomei slid the screen shut, but not before seeing Nanao blush furiously and Shunsui’s jaw drop. Not long after followed to sound of Shunsui’s deep laughter.

Kagomei laughed softly as she turned away from the door. Teasing them did seem a little unfair given all the help they’d both given her over the previous decade but she knew they didn’t mind.

She gently adjusted the picture of Jūshirō that sat on the shelf just outside the kitchen, no doubt having been knocked askew as the result of a rambunctious nine-year-old.

“We’re going to be okay,” she said gently, brushing her knuckle against the frame.

She just knew it.


End file.
